


A Lesson Well-Learned

by Llamamomo



Series: Little Nightmares Standalones [2]
Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Early days of the maw, Gen, Might write more, baby rk, before little nightmare 1, rk learns a valuable lesson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:00:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llamamomo/pseuds/Llamamomo
Summary: Despite the general dreariness of the Maw, the boy had been content. He did not remember much of the world outside of the concrete island, his memories about his life Before only consist of loud gunshots and the strong stench of rot. There is a roof above his head, warm food three times a day and consistent playtimes with lots of toys to choose from, what else could he want?
Series: Little Nightmares Standalones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216973
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	A Lesson Well-Learned

Despite the general dreariness of the Maw, the boy had been content. He did not remember much of the world outside of the concrete island, his memories about his life Before only consist of loud gunshots and the strong stench of rot. There is a roof above his head, warm food three times a day and consistent playtimes with lots of toys to choose from, what else could he want?

The children in the Maw were fine. Some kids were nice, willing to engage in a game of building blocks and read stories in the corner to a group of excited audience. Most of them were distant, moving through motions woodenly like clockwork. They always seemed so tired, their expression blank and listless as they shuffled along.

As blank as they seemed to be, the boy knows. He can recognize desperation, the eyes of hunger lingering behind their hooded looks.

He stayed away from them.

As nice as some of the children were, there are creatures that the boy learned to love more than anything. The Nomes. They were tiny creatures, smaller than him even, with large pointy hat-like head and short stubby legs that makes them waddle whenever they skitter around. Most children did not bother with them, as they tend to scatter and ran away when approached.

But the boy was different.

He likes the tiny beings, from the fact that they were shorter than the boy to the strange squeals they made. But the reason that got him so fixated to the Nomes was that he could never catch them. Their tiny bodies make them liable to squeeze into the smallest opening and they were surprisingly slippery, sliding and tottering around with disarming speed.

The boy loves the game. When the other children were playing quietly in their own area of the playroom, the boy zoomed around delightfully after any Nomes he finds. The game always ended in with the Nome scuttling out of the room through the bars and a pair of arms will whip up the boy.

On a particular day, one of the big kids that caught him spoke.

“Don’t,” the big kid warned, voice stern as she pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “Listen.” He leaned his head on their chest, ears against her heartbeat.

_Thudthud-thudthud-_

He closed his eyes, soothed by the steady beat and tired out from his race.

“No,” a gentle pull on his hair shook him awake. “Listen.”

The boy opened his eyes reluctantly, removing his head from the comforting warmth.

And that’s when he heard it, a subtle hum emitting out from the bars.

Perking up, the boy reached out to the source, curious about the strange new finding.

“No,” the big kid sighed. She reached into their yellow raincoat and showed him a doll. The doll was tenderly crafted, its wooden face gleamed with newness.

His attention immediately shifted to the shinny toy, cooing with interest.

“Watch,” the big kid shook the doll tantalizingly close to the boy’s face, ignoring the boy’s attempts of grabbing it. Then with shocking strength, she threw it to the humming bars.

A choked up wailed can be heard.

The other kids in the Playroom continued their doings, only few glancing up with disinterest.

The doll fell outside the bar, its face charred and disfigured. The smell of smoke filled into the boy’s lungs.

The boy muffled cries were stifled by the big kid’s hands.

“Watch,” she insisted. The boy quietened down, tears still running. He’s whole body shaking in her arms, but his eyes remained glued to the doll.

The Playroom was quiet despite the other children’s presence.

Footsteps.

The boy buried his face into the yellow raincoat, the blackened doll still lingering at the corner of his view. He resisted the urge to follow the others and hide under the table.

The big kid pulled him behind a cabinet, the view of the doll’s predicament still visible in the shadows.

A familiar pair of intimidating long arms slithered to the doll. Impatiently snapping it up and took it far away.

The sound of breathing echoed loudly in his head.

After a while, the big kid released her hand from the boy’s mouth.

“That’s you,” she said solemnly. “Listen. Run. Then hide. Or that’s you.”

The boy shivered, nodding obediently. Lessons from big kids are invaluable and must always be treated with the respect and gratefulness it deserved.

“Good,” big kid waved him away. “Must go.”

The boy blinked.

Where can she go? There’s only ever been the maw or nothing else.

The big kid in the yellow raincoat patted his head and pushed him to a nest of blanket under a chair.

“Remember,” she said as he began to pull the covers above him. “Must go or that’s you.”

A yawn.

Then he’s drowning in the abyss.

**Author's Note:**

> Might continue this to a alternate universe where RK survived and didn't turn into a nome. Cause our boi deserves better.


End file.
